Fire Chapter 11: The Factory
by Wren Sharpbeak
Summary: The gang comes across a town plagued by problems, and Aang risks revealing his identity to help them.  Meanwhile, Zuko begins his search for Ursa.
1. Ch 1 Tokens

**Disclaimer:** the characters and places in the following work of fan-fiction are the intellectual property of Nickelodeon and, as such, they reserve the right to remove this story at their sole discretion.

_This story is the __eleventh__ in a series, so please read the other ten before continuing!_

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**_Previously on Avatar_**

Katara furiously pulled and tugged against the impossibly firm wisps that bound her. But when Zuko lifted the mask and put it to his face, she ceased her struggles and watched in dismay as an eerie light surrounded him for a moment.

Slowly, the radiance receded and she gasped when his face, unmarked and perfect, was revealed. At first, she was confused when she saw his reaction, mystified and hesitant as he cautiously reached up to touch the place where his scar had been. But when his fingers brushed against the smooth skin, his eyes closed in a mixture of relief and elation and she began to understand the tragic significance of Tanha's temptation.

* * *

A resounding crack filled the air as Zuko fell backward, and Katara only barely registered the large shards of porcelain that scattered and fell around him.

* * *

Katara stumbled to her feet and tripped her way over to him, collapsing to her knees, and turning him over onto her lap. 

Noticing one of the broken halves of the mask lying close by, she picked it up, looking at the unmarred porcelain depiction of Zuko's face, and then to the scar he truly bore. It was a disconcerting discovery that something as simple as wanting to be rid of his disfigurement was his deepest desire; the only one he'd unable to refuse.

* * *

"The path ahead of you is dangerous," Tanha told Aang, sounding genuinely sympathetic and concerned as it continued to wind around him, "Your task fraught with peril. You fear for your friends…and rightly so." 

The Avatar's temper began to falter and his expression softened into a confused and worried frown. He could not deny the truth of what was being said.

"I can help," the mist continued kindly, "I can keep them safe…I can keep her safe."

Bowing his head, Aang whispered, "Katara…"

* * *

"It's such a shame really," she went on sadly, almost wistfully, "you deserve to be with someone like her. You've sacrificed so much already, it isn't fair that you have to give her up too." 

She then spun toward him, her voice mirroring his own sense of indignant rage.

"And for what?" she asked unhappily, "You can't even go into the Avatar State anymore, so what good has come of renouncing your love for her? Nothing has changed so why must you suffer and deny how you feel?"

* * *

Aang waited until Zuko and Katara had left with Sokka before stepping out from behind the broad-leafed plant where he'd been hiding, watching their entire conversation. Kneeling down, he picked up the flower Katara had neglected to take with her, and stood back up, slowly twisting the bloom between his fingers. 

"Tanha was right," he whispered resentfully, "it isn't fair."

Closing his eyes with an angry scowl, he didn't even notice when the flower began to wilt in his grasp, smoke curling from his fist until the panda lily erupted in a fiery flare. Only then did he look down to see the flower's charred remains fall from his fingertips in a whisper of black ash.

* * *

"I think…I think I saw my mother here in Kazimizu," admitted the prince uncertainly. 

"Zuko," Iroh warned seriously, "Ursa has been missing for almost ten years. No one is even sure if she-"

"I'm aware of that, Uncle!" snapped Zuko. "But…if there's a chance…if it really was her…Uncle I have to know," he finished with a look of desperate pleading in his eyes.

* * *

"I'm not coming with you," Zuko told them quietly. 

"I stand a better chance of slipping through places unnoticed if I'm alone," he replied, the tone of his voice indicating that he'd already thought this through completely. "So I'll take a different route and meet up with you outside the capital, in Port Shukumei, before the eclipse."

* * *

Zuko waited for the Avatar to approach; pet lemur perched on the air bender's shoulder. The boy seemed to hesitate for a moment, as though coming to a decision of his own, before suddenly reaching up to his shoulder so Momo could move to his lower arm. He then held the lemur out to the prince. 

"Take Momo with you," he instructed resolutely.

No explanation was given, but despite his shock at the gesture Zuko didn't need one. He understood what Aang was trying to express. It was both a request and a promise; a silent plea for Zuko to come back to them, and a pledge that he would be welcomed when he returned. So it was with great reverence that the prince extended his arm out to Momo, who promptly scampered up it to rest on Zuko's shoulder.

Without a word, the two boys bowed respectfully to each other, and the next moment, Aang was hurrying back down the corridor to where the rest of the group was waiting outside.

Taking one last pining look at the light shining in from the end of the tunnel, Zuko slowly turned and headed back into the darkness.

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**Book Three: Fire**

**Chapter 11: The Factory**

Zuko woke to a light pressure on the middle of his chest, and when he opened his eyes, another pair, bright green surrounded by a mask of black, stared expectantly back at him. Momo let out a low purr as the prince blinked sleepily at the little lemur.

"Let me guess," he grumbled, "you're hungry."

Not waiting for a reply, since naturally Momo couldn't give him one, Zuko sighed and sat up, fumbling around in a nearby bag and pulling forth a piece of fruit. Momo took it happily and settled himself on the dresser to eat his food while the teen put on his tunic and pulled a comb through his unruly hair.

By the time he was done getting dressed, Momo had finished his food and he glided down to the floor, sitting across from where Zuko was now dining on a simple breakfast as well. The lemur's gaze followed Zuko's every move, waiting patiently for the bits and bites that he knew the prince would eventually give him.

"You're as bad as Sokka, you know that?" he chided.

But despite Zuko's gruff remarks, it was clear that he was not bothered at all by the creature's appetite. And Momo wasn't disappointed when, true to form, Zuko broke off a small piece and tossed it to him.

Eating it quickly, Momo alighted to the prince's shoulder and nuzzled against the boy's cheek, purring happily when Zuko reciprocated by scratching the lemur behind the ears. The simple truth was; Zuko _liked_ having the lemur around (although he'd never admit that if asked) and he had been completely stunned when Aang had insisted Zuko take him.

"You miss them, don't you?" asked the prince, not caring one bit that Momo couldn't understand him. "I'm sure they're fine," he continued soothingly. "Aang is a smart kid, and Sokka is pretty resourceful when he has to be. Plus Toph and Katara will keep them in line. And Uncle Iroh will look after them too." He let out a sigh, slow and full of longing, before adding quietly, "They'll be fine."

If anyone had been around to hear this conversation, it would have been painfully obvious that Momo wasn't really the one Zuko was trying to reassure. But as it was, nobody was there to witness it, and the prince continued talking aloud, grateful for the attentive but silent audience.

"I promise we'll leave Kazimizu soon," he announced briskly, snapping out of his pensive mood and handing the lemur another bite of food. "I've already wasted two days here, and still there's not been any other sign of her."

Scowling slightly in frustration, he took one last bite of food and stood up.

"There's just one more place I need check first."

* * *

Katara opened her eyes to a riot of color in the treetops above her, the soft scent of flowers drifting down on a warm, humid breeze. Whatever she had expected the Fire Nation to be like, it certainly wasn't this beautiful, tropical paradise that she found herself in. 

Iroh insisted that not all the islands were like this; that as they traveled further north it was much more temperate. But Katara had already decided that it didn't matter. This place was just about as perfect as it got in her opinion.

Sitting up and looking around the camp, she noticed that the others were already awake and eating.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Toph called cheerfully.

"Morning," the water bender replied with a yawn. "How long have you guys been up?"

"Long enough for Iroh to fix us a tasty breakfast," answered Sokka happily, taking another bite of food.

"Sorry I slept so late," she apologized.

"It's okay, Katara," Aang reassured her unconcernedly, "Toph said you didn't sleep well last night."

"I didn't keep you awake too, did I?" worried the older girl.

"Nah," Toph said dismissively, "I got up and moved to the cart where it was quiet."

"Come get something to eat," suggested Iroh kindly. "Before your brother eats it all," he added teasingly.

Nodding, she came to sit by the others and gratefully took a bowl of food from Iroh. The lighthearted banter died away as quickly as it had begun, having been somewhat forced in the first place. The truth was, despite their best efforts to behave as if nothing bothered them, they all missed Zuko and wondered how he was doing.

As Iroh poured out some tea into the mismatched set of cups they owned, Katara noticed how the old man's gaze lingered on a lone teacup. Every morning, Iroh would unpack all six out of pure habit, but for the past two days, he'd had to put the smallest, a black cup with white trim, the one that Zuko always drank from, away again…unused.

Somehow sensing the retired general's melancholy, Top sighed and stared sightlessly into her tea.

"I still think one of us should have gone with him," she declared petulantly.

It was the first time since they'd parted ways with the prince that the topic had even been broached, and the others looked at Toph in surprise at the suddenness of the remark. Naturally, they had argued about Zuko's departure while Iroh was saying his goodbyes to his nephew, but in the end, Aang had insisted they let Zuko do what he felt was necessary. And once again, it was Aang who responded to Toph's statement with coolheaded resolve.

"Zuko will be fine," he said calmly. "He's got Momo with him, and he's really good at getting around without being seen. Trust me," he added under his breath, thinking of the Blue Spirit, "I know."

"How?" wondered Katara, a bit taken aback by Aang's certainly.

Aang hesitated, suddenly regretting having mentioned so much about Zuko's adeptness as a burglar, but Sokka spoke up and spared the Avatar from having to make something up.

"He got past the walls of the Northern Water Tribe," the warrior pointed out.

"Good point," his sister conceded sadly, not liking the unpleasant reminder of that particular event. "Still," argued Katara glumly, "he shouldn't have felt he needed to go off alone."

"I assure you, it was not an easy choice for him to make," Iroh informed her quietly.

All eyes turned to the Dragon of the West, eager and desperate for whatever wisdom and insight he might be able to offer in regard to their absent companion.

"Words cannot express how grateful I am to all of you for accepting my nephew and making him a part of your family," he praised them warmly. "Over the past several weeks, you have given him something he has been missing for most of his life; friendship and love.

"It has been many long years since I have seen Zuko this happy and at peace with himself. And his leaving to ensure Aang and the rest of you stay safe is the greatest sacrifice I have ever known him to make."

The four teens hung their heads thoughtfully, suddenly feeling ashamed of their own selfish sense of loss compared to what Zuko had apparently unwillingly relinquished in order to protect them.

"He cares for you all more than he will ever admit," Iroh continued, "even to himself. And you cannot know how difficult it was for him to give you up…especially after he has already lost so much."

Of this last statement, only Katara fully understood what Iroh was referring to, remembering what Zuko had told her in Ba Sing Se about losing his mother. Unconsciously, her hand went to her neck, reaching up to touch the last memento she had of her own mother. But when her hand touched the foreign red choker that was there in its place, her hand dropped back to her lap forlornly as she reminded herself that her mother's necklace was packed away.

By now, the others had begun taking down the camp and, looking around, Katara realized she needed to be helping. As she rolled up her blanket and began stuffing it away into her bag, she suddenly was taken by the urge to see her mother's necklace, and she set the blanket aside for a moment to search for it.

She checked the side pocket first and found nothing, then another interior compartment, in which she found only her comb and hand mirror.

"Where did I put it?" she muttered.

Digging into the main bag itself, her fingers brushed across something hard and cold…but too big to be the necklace. Curious, she pulled it up, and her heart twisted in her chest when she saw what it was.

There in her hand, she held the broken mask that the spirit Tanha had used to tempt Zuko. Sadly, she ran a finger across the piece of porcelain just large enough to cover the prince's scar, tracing the painted eyebrow that the real Zuko had lost years ago. Iroh's recent words echoed back in her head, '_you cannot know how difficult it was for him to give you up…especially after he has already lost so much'._

"You about finished over there, Sis?"

The sound of her brother's voice snapped Katara from her melancholy musings, and she hastily dropped the mask fragment into her bag.

"Yeah, just about," she called back.

Picking up her rolled blanket, she stuffed it into the satchel and latched it shut, her search for the necklace completely forgotten.

* * *

After Zuko finished packing his clothes and a light blanket into his traveling bag, he turned to the dresser and paused to stare for a moment at the drawing laying there. He'd worked on it most of the night, trying to get the details of his mother's face as perfectly as he could remember them. 

It wasn't as difficult as he'd expected it to be, considering how long it had been since the days of scribbling little pictures in the margins of his notes during classes. That's not to say it was easy, but the likeness was certainly much clearer than the hastily sketched image he'd been using, drawn on the spot at a shopkeeper's counter when he couldn't think of a better way to describe Ursa.

Almost reverently, he folded up the drawing and tucked it into his tunic. Hopefully, this new drawing would be well worth the effort.

He was about to pick up his ink and brush set to pack it away when Momo came crashing across the dresser, madly pusuing a large bug that had flown in from the window. Papers scattered in all directions and the brushes clattered to the floor, rolling away.

"Momo!" he scolded angrily. But the damage had already been done and the little lemur was once again chasing his prey around the room.

"You know, half the reason I feed you so much is so you'll stop eating those disgusting bugs!" he ranted pointlessly.

Muttering and grumbling under his breath, Zuko began picking up the mess, noticing as he did so that one of the brushes was still meandering its way along the floor, coming to rest a good distance under the dresser. Naturally, it was the prince's favorite brush.

So he knelt down on the floor, peering into the darkness under the piece of furniture to find it. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light beneath the dresser, he noticed a gleam of blue. Intrigued, he reached past his brush and pulled it out. Opening his palm to see what it was, he rested back on his heels and blinked in surprise at the intricately carved, bright blue stone, its dark ribbon dangling on either side of his upturned palm.

Rubbing his thumb pensively over the cool surface, he wondering if Katara knew she was missing her necklace. In the end, it didn't matter, for as he closed his fist around it, he decided he would just have to make sure he got it back to her.

With an unconscious deftness born of an almost forgotten habit, Zuko swiftly wrapped Katara's necklace around his wrist and tucked it neatly into his sleeve.

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	2. Ch 2 Inquiries

The wagon was a gift from Katzu, who had been waiting for the group in the jungle outside Kazimizu. At first, the Avatar's group was a bit leery of so openly travelling on the roads, but after some discussion, they conceded that the best place to hide was in plain sight, not to mention that riding was much better than walking with all their possessions tied to their shoulders.

Still, as they approached the next town, Iroh felt it might be wise for the kids to remain somewhat hidden in the back of the cart…just in case. The retired general would not have been so apprehensive if it were not for the presence of a factory overlooking the village from the mountainside. He knew that wherever there was anything having to do with the military, soldiers were always nearby.

Rounding a corner in the road, he was surprised to notice that the gates were closed.

"That's odd," he remarked.

"What's odd?" asked Sokka nervously, popping his head up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious," replied the fire bender, "Just that the gates are closed."

"So…what does that mean exactly?"

"I'm not sure," pondered Iroh. "Normally, towns in the Fire Nation keep them open, closing them only at night to protect the citizens from the wild creatures living in the jungles." He paused musingly for a second before waving his concerns away. "We'll find out a reason soon enough. In the meantime, just keep your heads down."

Doing as Iroh instructed, the four teens laid down in the wagon, pretending to sleep, and listened to the footsteps of the guard stepping forward as the cart rolled to a stop.

"State your business and your cargo," he demanded curtly.

"No cargo," informed the general politely, "just my family. And we aren't here for any special purpose, just weary travelers looking for an inn."

"Then I'm sorry, Sir," the guard replied, "But unless you're here on official government business, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Well, we needn't stay then," Iroh countered pleasantly, "if you could just let us pass through-"

"I'm afraid I can't do that either."

"But our destination is beyond this town," Iroh objected reasonably, "and we'll have to go days out of our way to get through the mountains-"

"Are you not listening, old man?" snapped the sentry, "I said you can't-"

"Father?"

The pitifully weak sound of Toph's voice interrupted the conversation as her head crested the side of the cart. Her friends peeked at each other in alarm, wondering what on earth she was doing.

"Why have we stopped?" she continued timidly, "Are we there?"

Standing up with dramatic instability, she reached her hands out forlornly past the rail at the front of the wagon, blindly seeking Iroh's presence. Quickly discerning her ruse, he picked up on his cue and took her outstretched hand, patting it consolingly.

"No, my daughter," he replied sadly, "it seems we won't be allowed into the town."

"Not even to rest?" she whimpered, her bottom lip quivering slightly as she turned her sightless gaze to look somewhere in the distance past the guard.

"Great Spirits," he gasped, "is she…_blind_?"

Her reaction to the statement was both theatrical and perfect, her head hanging ashamedly as tears threatened in her eyes. But Toph continued on as though she hadn't heard the man.

"I don't want to sleep in the jungle again, Father," she declared tremulously, "the noises there are so scary!"

By now, the guard's face was skewed in a jumble of pity and embarrassment, the man obviously feeling terrible for denying this poor blind child the comfort of a safe, warm bed.

"I...I didn't realize…I mean I," he stammered guiltily. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and pulled the lever to open the gate. "I suppose it won't hurt to let you stay one night," he muttered sullenly.

"Really? Oh thank you!" Toph gushed with pathetic joy, clutching Iroh happily as though she might capsize from sheer relief and gratitude. "Thank you so much!"

"Ah, don't mention it," he grumbled, then more seriously he added, "Really…_don't_ mention it….to _anyone_."

"We won't," she assured him adorably, "I promise!"

Once the cart had had cleared the entrance and the gate closed shut behind them, the other teens sat up, staring at the blind girl in complete shock.

"Wow, Toph!" breathed Aang, "That was incredible!"

"Yeah!" Sokka chimed amazedly. "I can't _believe_ you just played that guy like a fine tuned pipa!"

"Eh," Toph shrugged as though the whole thing was no big deal. "It always worked on my parents."

* * *

Zuko was grateful for the light drizzle falling from the sky as he made his way through the streets of Kazimizu. Not only did it make more sense for his hood to be up as protection from the rain, but there were fewer people about as well; certainly, no one interested enough to take note of his presence. 

Arriving at his destination, he hesitated briefly and sent up a silent prayer that this time his efforts would be rewarded with something more concrete than what he'd gotten over the past two days. Letting out a short breath, he opened the door and walked in. The elderly woman behind the counter looked up at the sound of the bell jangling over the threshold, and smiled warmly.

"Good day, Sir," she called amiably, "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone," he replied, pulling out the parchment with Ursa's image upon it and sliding the picture across the counter, "and I was told that you might know her."

"Oh her!" she responded with cheerful recognition, too busy looking at the drawing to notice the sudden flare of hope in his eyes or his sharp intake of breath. "She was here just a few days ago."

"Where can I find her?" he asked eagerly.

"I have no idea," she shrugged, again missing his reaction, his shoulders slumping with disappointment. "I don't really know her personally, not even her name. But she comes through here about once a month to sell off some of her jewelry."

"Jewelry?"

"Oh yes. She makes the loveliest pieces," the woman explained brightly. "Are you interested in buying one?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned around, pulled a tray off of a shelf, and set it on the counter. "I haven't put them out just yet, but you're welcome to look them over."

It was all Zuko could do not to scream in frustration. His mother was a royal, by all rights _a queen_; she was no jeweler. So whomever this shopkeeper recognized in the drawing couldn't possibly be Ursa.

"Thank you," he mumbled gruffly, "but I'm not in-"

He was about to say he wasn't interested in buying any jewelry, and had every intention of leaving and giving up this hopeless quest right then and there. But when one the trinkets sitting on the counter caught his eye, his breath stopped in this throat, a flash of memory overwhelming him.

* * *

Long, delicate fingers twisted the thin ribbons with skilled confidence, and seven-year-old Zuko watched in pure fascination at the snaking pattern that developed within the intricately entwined strands. 

"How did you learn to _do_ that, Mom?" he asked with awe, referring to the specific arrangement of multiple threads, unlike any he'd ever seen, or would probably see again.

"Your grandmother taught me how to do simple braids," she answered serenely. Then with a hint of pride added, "But I made this one up myself."

* * *

The banished prince started dumbly at the bracelet in his hands, at the impossibly braided wires forming the same distinctive design that Ursa used to create with ribbons and thread. It was almost too much to hope for that this mysterious jeweler really _could_ be his mother. But who else would know how to duplicate such an original pattern? 

While Zuko was thus engaged in his tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and hope, the old woman behind the counter was still chattering on blithely.

"…pretty sure she mentioned once that she got her wire from Kawa'Gin, even though I keep telling her she could get more money if she worked with gold instead of silver-"

"Kawa'Gin?" repeated Zuko, suddenly snapping out of his reverie.

"Yes, there used to be a profitable silver mine there, years ago," she prattled, "but there's not much call for that metal now, what with the war and all."

"How do I get there?"

"If you take the road north out of town and follow the river for about three days you can't miss it. But if you have the coin, the ferry can take you there in one."

She'd no sooner finished saying this when Zuko had tucked the drawing back into his tunic, ready to leave.

"Thank you," he said earnestly.

"My pleasure," the woman said warmly.

Just as he was about to turn toward the door, he hesitated, looking down at the assortment of jewelry the woman was starting to put away. His hand went thoughtfully to the small purse of coins tucked into his belt.

"How much for the bracelet?"

* * *

The streets of Shinchou were eerily quiet as Iroh steered the cart through the town, looking for the inn. Citizens lingered in doorways and on porches, seeming too weak to do much else. Children clung listlessly to their mothers, who watched the cart pass with vacant eyes. 

"What's wrong with all these people?" whispered Katara, her face brimming with sadness and concern.

"They look sick," remarked her brother worriedly. "Maybe coming here was a bad idea," he continued with a tinge of paranoia, "I mean...what if we catch whatever they've got?"

"Is it just me," wondered Toph, "or does the air here smell…odd?"

"It does," Aang agreed quietly.

"That's the smoke from the factory," explained Iroh. "Most people here are probably accustomed to it by now. After a while, you won't notice it either."

"Maybe," conceded the Avatar, "but I don't think we should stick around long enough to get used to it."

"Definitely not," Toph muttered emphatically.

Katara said nothing, instead keeping her gaze fixed despondently on the beleaguered people of Shinchou.

"For now, we should just focus on finding a place to rest for the night," Sokka declared. "Preferably someplace away from all the sick people," he added, casting a nervous glance toward a man wandering in the street.

Iroh pulled up alongside him. "Excuse me, sir," he asked politely. "Could you perhaps direct us toward the nearest inn?"

Tired eyes turned toward the cart, but the man said nothing. He merely pointed down the street in the direction they were already headed, and then shuffled away.

"Um…thank you," Iroh called after him uncertainly. Snapping the reigns to set the cart in motion once more, he murmured to the others, "I guess we just keep going this way."

* * *

The inn, like every other building in Shinchou, was dingy and gray, covered in a thick layer of soot and grime. They'd almost passed the place in fact, the sign being so obscured that it was almost unreadable. Inside wasn't much better, as the fine ash that permeated the air seemed to cling to everything, everywhere. The group looked uncertainly around the empty room.

"Nice place," observed Sokka sarcastically, running a finger across the counter and gathering up a wad of black grit.

"Hello?" called Toph, dimly feeling the weight of another presence nearby, but being unable to tell for sure through the wooden floorboards. "Maybe no one is here…"

"Hello!" replied a faint male voice from a doorway behind the counter. "I'll be with you in a moment!"

They waited patiently until a handsome young teen appeared, wiping his hands on a faded apron.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologized.

"That's okay," replied Aang genially, "we just got here."

"We haven't had any visitors in a while," the boy continued, pulling out a register for them to sign. "And we really weren't expecting anyone anytime soon."

"Why is that?" asked Katara, putting her alias on the list.

"Travelers have been staying clear of Shinchou ever since people started getting sick," he explained matter-of-factly.

"Well how long ago was that?" she wondered.

"A few weeks," he replied. "At first it was just the elderly and the little kids, but then it started affecting everyone."

"Don't you have a town doctor or something?" Sokka asked pragmatically.

"We do, but nothing he tries seems to help," the boy shrugged. He let out a mirthless laugh as he added, "Healing doesn't exactly work like magic, you know."

At this, Aang glanced over at Katara, who was biting her lip guiltily. The boy behind the counter negligently checked over the names they had written, and then picked up a set of keys.

"If you'll follow me," he instructed, "I'll show you to your rooms."

They trailed along behind the young man, Sokka and Katara coming last. The warrior leaned over to his sister, knowing what she was probably thinking, and whispered.

"We can't do anything about it, Katara, so just put it out of your mind."

She nodded mutely, understanding that he was right to demand they stay out of the town's problems. But as she passed by the open doorway behind the service counter and noticed an emaciated woman, lying on a dingy cot in the room beyond, she knew deep down that he was asking the impossible.

**

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Author's note:** I know that in light of 'The Painted Lady' it may seem I've taken this story idea directly from the show, but I swear I've actually had this thing plotted out since February. So any similarities between the canon scenes and incidents in this fan-fiction are purely (if somewhat freakishly) coincidental. 

Personally, I think Joshua Hamilton and Aaron Ehasz did a much better job with this concept ('The Painted Lady' was wickedly _awesome_!), but I hope you enjoy my version just the same. It would be appreciated if you let me know exactly what you think (in other words, _please review_!)

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	3. Ch 3 Barriers

Misty rain continued to blanket the city well into late afternoon as Zuko made his way to the ferry docks. Despite the miserable weather, he was in comparatively good spirits. The shopkeeper's instant recognition of the drawing and the distinctive pattern woven into the bracelet he'd bought gave him hope that his mother was still alive. Now all he had to do was take the morning boat to Kawa'Gin tomorrow and, with any luck, he would gain more information about how he might actually _find_ her.

He was about to approach the ticket counter when the buzz of hushed conversation in a nearby crowd caught his attention. Curious, he went over to investigate, standing at the back of the assembly where he could listen without being seen. The people were gathered around a bulletin board, whispering animatedly about a recent posting.

"I always knew he was a worthless traitor!"

"…should have rid the nation of him years ago."

"Disgraceful!"

"…love to collect the purse on _that_ one!"

Peering through the crowd to see the source of the people's gossip, Zuko was forced to stifle a gasp when he saw his own face staring back at him from the wall.

Suddenly on alert, his eyes darted around the area, noticing for the first time the guards stationed on either side of the ticket counter, at the end of the dock, and sporadically moving along the streets. Buying a ticket for the ferry was now completely out of the question; fake traveling papers or not, there was no way he'd manage it without being recognized.

Glancing back one last time at the announcements, the prince was relieved to note that Aang's poster, which was pinned alongside his own, still showed the air bender bald, his pale blue tattoo gleaming across his scalp. Zuko also noticed that while there was a warrant for Iroh as well, there still weren't any for Toph, Sokka, or Katara.

As Zuko furtively moved away from the crowd, one final snippet of conversation reached his ears.

"…and now he's traveling with the Avatar."

The prince clenched his jaw and muttered under his breath with embittered satisfaction.

"Not anymore."

* * *

By nightfall, the rain had stopped, and the first sliver of the waxing moon hung serenely in a night sky bejeweled with stars. Unseen by the guards and deckhands working by lamplight on the docks, a lone shadow crept noiselessly across the rooftop of a warehouse near the ferry. 

Firelight barely touched the hooded blue and white visage as it peeked over the edge of the building, carefully assessing the situation and forming a plan. Hearing footsteps, the figure receded safely back into the darkness…and sprouted a second head atop its own, this new one black and white with emerald eyes and tall ears pricked forward attentively. When a low chittering trill purred in the lemur's throat, the Blue Spirit reached up and gently but firmly pushed the creature back down into the backpack.

"Shh," whispered Zuko admonishingly. "Stay in the bag, Momo. And keep quiet."

Momo let out a chirp that sounded like an affirmative response and then curled up in the bottom of the satchel. Zuko was never sure if the lemur understood him or not, but he had to admit that it certainly seemed that way sometimes, which was odd since the only other person Momo ever obeyed was Aang. Anyone else could give the creature command after command and receive nothing but a vacant stare in return.

Of course, Zuko's good fortune at the moment apparently only extended to his ability to communicate with his traveling companion, for the approaching guards had arrived and taken up post directly below the Blue Spirit's position. Casting about for another course of action, Zuko spotted a loose tile that became his salvation as he tossed it off the side of the building where it thudded loudly to the sodden planks below.

"Did you hear something?"

Both men stepped toward the sound of the noise, peering into the darkness, and the Blue Spirit dropped silently to the ground behind them, slipping past their turned backs and into the shadow of a stack of crates. Seeing nothing, they resumed their post.

"Probably just a wharf rat," one of them muttered.

Just as the Blue Spirit was about to move, a light flashed in the darkness, and he turned to see a dockworker heading his way, lantern in hand. With the two guards still on the other side of the shipping pallet, the disguised teen was unable to sneak all the way around to stay out of sight. So he settled for the side facing the water, halfway between the guards and the dockhand.

Zuko held his breath as the worker walked right up to the tall pile of crates he was hiding behind and began going around the pallet to remove the winches attached to it. A few deft pulls later, the man stepped toward the shadowed side of the load….and then finally came full circle back to where he started.

He never even looked up to see the shadowy figure crouched on the top crate.

Continuing on to the next stack, he tugged the chains along with him, and started attaching them to the pallet. Once finished, he walked over to the ferry and called out to the crane operator.

"Take it up, Shin! That's the last one."

Without waiting for a reply, the man headed off to his next duty. A lever was pulled in the operator's booth and the crane creaked into action, slowly pulling the cargo up into the air.

Seeing what might be his last opportunity to board, the Blue Spirit carefully plotted the course of the cargo and leapt ahead of it from one pyramid of boxes to the next, hugging the sides of top crates to stay out of the crane driver's line of sight until he reached the last stack nearest the boat. Muscles coiled and ready, he waited until the suspended cargo fully blocked the operator's view, and then sprung straight up, barely catching the lip of a crate before pulling himself onto the narrow edge of the pallet.

But he wasn't in the clear yet. Looking down at the deck of the ferry, a flood of light filled the area, and Zuko peeked cautiously around the wooden boxes to spot the first dockworker arriving to unhook the pallet when it landed. In the blink of an eye, the Blue Spirit was on the move once more, shimmying mutely up one of the chains, and diving for the rail around the ferry's bridge, just barely avoiding detection.

Pressed underneath the light spilling from the windows, he waited until the rattle of chains subsided and the booted footsteps faded into the distance. Then, silent as a breath of wind, he dashed along the side of the boat and scampered down a steam pipe, landing once more on the main deck near the loaded cargo.

He slid between the towers of crates, working his way inward until he found an area just large enough to stretch out. There, he slipped the pack from his shoulders and sat down with weary relief, letting Momo out of the bag as he removed his mask.

Thus, hidden deep within the maze of boxes, the prince and his diminutive companion at last settled down to rest for the night. Now all Zuko had to do was wait until morning when the passengers arrived, slip into the crowd, and then disembark with them once the ferry arrived in Kawa'Gin.

As he curled up in the small space with his head on his knapsack, Zuko pulled the silver bracelet from the folds of his tunic and stared at it in the wan starlight as his thumb moved across the texture of the intricate braid-work. And when the trilling purr of Momo snoring against his chest finally lulled the prince's tired mind into drowsiness, he wrapped his fingers around the trinket and was soon fast asleep.

* * *

The morning sky in Shinchou was heavy with gritty smoke, so much so that it was difficult to tell exactly what time of day it was. 

"I will be so glad when we get out of this filthy town," grumbled Sokka as he and Aang loaded their bags into the wagon. "My whole mouth tastes like soot!"

"Yeah," agreed Aang. "When I first woke up this morning, I thought it was still night."

He glanced at the dark fog hanging in the air around them, wishing he could air bend, just a little, and clear it all away. But he knew better than to even consider it, and instead just went back in for the last of their baggage.

Inside, Katara was paying their bill and chatting with the boy who had waited on them the day before.

"Is it always so...sooty here?" she asked him.

"It didn't used to be," he replied, coughing slightly, "but a few weeks ago they stepped up production; something about needing more ammunition to win the war this summer."

As Aang headed back out the door, Sokka walked in.

"Everything's loaded," he announced. "We ready to go?"

"More than ready," muttered Toph, one hand on Iroh's arm in order to keep up the 'helpless blind girl' act that had gotten them into the town.

"Thanks for the rooms," Katara told the boy behind the counter politely as she took her change.

"Have a safe journey," he replied.

They piled into the cart a few moments later, and Iroh wasted no time getting them moving toward the gate. Everyone was nearly desperate to breathe some fresh air, and the sooner they got out of the city, the better.

"I still wish we could do something for these people," Katara lamented quietly.

"I know you do," consoled Aang. "But we'll be able to help them soon enough…just as soon as this war is over," he finished in an undertone.

"You're right," the water bender sighed.

Looking around, Katara noticed that the streets were eerily empty, even more so than when they had arrived. All the shops seemed to be closed, and the shutters on the houses were latched tightly shut. It was as though a death pall had settled over the town in the wake of the thick smog, and the rattling of the small wagon echoed hauntingly in the stillness.

"Where is everyone?" she wondered aloud.

"Maybe they all slept in," Sokka suggested unconcernedly. "They probably don't realize it's day time yet…kinda hard to tell after all."

"I guess…"

But no matter how hard she tried, Katara couldn't shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong.

By the time the cart clattered to town's exit, the group was more than ready to get out the dismal place. But when they approached the closed portcullis, a sense of dread settled over them as nearly a half a dozen armed guards moved into their path, blocking the way.

Aang fidgeted nervously in the cart, keeping his eyes fixed on the floorboards. Had he been discovered? Had they recognized Iroh despite his darkened beard and hair?

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded a burly guard.

"We're on our way to Port Shukumei," answered Iroh calmly.

"I don't think so," the man replied coldly.

"But we're expected-"

At the snap of a finger from the formidable guard, the other sentries stepped forward, spears ringing menacingly into position, pointed directly at the wagon and its occupants. The broad-shouldered man took another step toward them, his voice dangerously serious.

"You're not going _anywhere_."

* * *

_Commercial Break_

**Author's note:** I made a comment about 'shipping' to a reader the other day, and thought it might be worth mentioning to everyone.

I've left the relationships somewhat open in this story to allow readers the opportunity to come up with their own conclusions and interpretations of what the interactions between the various characters really mean. As a result, I am always anxious to hear people's theories and hopes for what will happen, and I get frustrated when the majority of readers don't speak up.

Since this fan-fiction is written FOR the FANS, reader reaction is a vital factor in my final decisions on shipping because I personally have no preference, and have laid clues and groundwork for nearly every major pairing.

Right now, anything can still happen. So who ends up with who really depends on which shippers are the most vocal. :-)

So please be sure to share your thoughts on where YOU foresee (or hope) things are going in THIS version of season three (_not canon_)! What hints and clues _in this fan-fiction series_ have you noticed so far and what do you think about them?

* * *


	4. Ch 4 Outbreak

**Author's note:** Ugh! This chapter was such a BEAR to write. I _knew_ this would happen when the real third season started, and I only wish I hadn't gotten so far along with this mock series before it did.

I'm seeing quite a few of my own ideas coming into play on the show, (the factory problem in 'The Painted Lady', and last night 'Sokka's Master' had some eerily familiar moments to what I have planned for my next story after 'The Factory') but the show has developed them in a MUCH better way than I could have _possibly_ imagined.

The new episodes are _SO_ much better, more intriguing, and surprising than the stuff I've come up with, that I'm having a hard time finding the desire to keep at this. Writing was so much easier when I didn't have all these wonderful new episodes filling my brain with excitement for what will happen next. And I can't help but compare them to what I've written, and find my own ideas utterly lacking by contrast.

But I said that I would see this series through to the end, so I will; however, the updates may no longer come as quickly as they did during Avatar's 'dry spell'. I'll do my best to keep them coming, but don't be surprised if some of them take longer than others.

More than anything, your reviews are what motivate me to continue, so please be sure to share your thoughts and reactions.

_And now…back to the 'show'!_

* * *

No one in the wagon said a word, but Toph flexed her feet and popped her knuckles discreetly. Katara furtively reached under her traveling cloak to uncork her water flask, and Sokka began inching his hand toward the bag at his feet, where his boomerang was stowed. 

If their identities had in fact been discovered, a fight would be unavoidable, and they intended to be prepared for it. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the guards to make the first move.

But the tension was suddenly broken by a hoarse cry and the sound of feet clapping against the pavement behind them. Turning, they saw the boy from the inn, Kento, dashing toward them through the heavy black fog with labored strides. He passed right by the cart and went directly up to the lead guard.

"It's my fault, Sir," he panted, leaning his hands on his knees in apparent exhaustion. "I didn't see the posting until after they left the inn. They didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" asked Iroh in true bewilderment. Equally puzzled, the others in the cart behind him relaxed from their tense, battle ready positions.

"This town and everyone in it have been placed under quarantine," the guard informed them. "All persons are required to stay in their homes or lodgings until this area is cleansed of plague."

"Plague?" squeaked Sokka.

"Yes, boy, a _plague_," the man responded tartly. "Nine people died last night, and the rest of the town is showing the same symptoms of illness. We've been ordered to keep this disease contained lest it spread to the neighboring cities."

The boys stared in horror at the news, and Katara's face had turned ashen. Toph, however, frowned thoughtfully.

"What do you mean by 'cleansed'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Return to the inn immediately," demanded the guard, ignoring Toph's question. He glanced at the teenaged boy still winded from his run. "And take this one with you," he added curtly.

Katara looked over her shoulder at the now wheezing boy, and she immediately hopped over the edge of the cart, grabbing Kento by the arm just as he began to sway. With Sokka's help, she got him into the cart.

Not a word was spoken as they headed back to the inn.

* * *

It was mid morning when the ferry made its first stop, and two pairs of heavy boots crossed the deck of the boat, coming to rest before a stack of crates. 

"Is this all there is?" asked a gruff voice.

"Yep, no passengers for Kawa'Gin, just the cargo," another answered.

Three more deckhands appeared and started hauling boxes down the gangplank, depositing them roughly on the pier where more workers carried them into a storeroom. Within minutes, the crates were unloaded and the ferry steamed away upriver with all of its passengers still aboard….no one had disembarked.

As the last footsteps faded to distant echoes through the warehouse, a faint crack appeared along the rim of one of the crates, and a pair of bright green eyes peeked out through it. Blinking twice, they quickly disappeared and a low trilling chatter rumbled inside the box.

"I hope that means 'all clear'," grumbled a muffled voice.

A moment later, the top of the crate snapped its bindings, allowing Zuko and Momo to pop their heads up over the rim, side by side. They furtively glanced around the empty warehouse, turning their heads away from one another, and then back again to lock eyes, deciding unanimously that all was indeed clear.

With a rustling and scattering of hay, the two climbed out and brushed off the packing debris from their limbs. Zuko quickly removed his meager belongings from the box and then cleaned up the loose straw, dropping it back into the crate and replacing the lid, leaving no trace of his presence there.

Momo watched patiently while the prince adjusted his bag across his chest and strapped his twin dao to his waist. He waited until Zuko had donned his dark traveling cloak before alighting on his shoulder and tugging at the teen's mouth with a piteous chirrup. Zuko's stomach responded in kind.

"You and me both," agreed the prince with a small grin, and he held open the satchel at his hip to let the lemur jump inside. "Come on, let's find something to eat."

* * *

By the time the wagon got back to the inn, Kento had passed out, and Sokka and Iroh had to carry him inside. They set him gently on a pallet in the back room behind the counter, where Katara was dismayed to see three other people there as well; an older woman and two young girls who couldn't be more than seven or eight, all of them apparently comatose. 

The others watched in silence as the water bender poured a bowl of water and knelt down to wipe the sweat and soot from the teenage boy's brow.

"All those people…dead," she lamented quietly. She closed her eyes and hung her head as she whispered, "I could have saved them!"

"You don't know that, Katara," Sokka insisted gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"But I didn't even _try_!" she shouted, whirling around to her feet, tears shining in her eyes. "What if I _could_ have?"

"Then you might have given away our identities, and risked endangering us all," answered Iroh solemnly.

"He's right, Katara," Aang added miserably. "And so is Sokka. We don't know anything about this illness."

"Well seeing as how we can't _leave_ now," Toph interjected unhappily, "we're probably going to learn plenty." She crossed her arms over chest and added, "_first hand_."

"Oh no we won't," stated Sokka firmly. "Because we can't stay here; we have a mission to accomplish and a timetable for finishing it. We'll just have to sneak out or something."

"I'm not so sure that is wise," argued Iroh. "Our presence here is already known, and disappearing suddenly might arouse suspicion. Anonymity and discretion are allies we cannot afford to lose."

"So then how are we supposed to get out of this town?" demanded the warrior tartly.

Iroh glanced over at Katara, who had sullenly returned to tending the passed out teen, and the old general stroked his black-dyed beard thoughtfully. A crafty smile slowly spread across his aged features.

"We end the threat that keeps us here."

Aang and Sokka exchanged a doubtful look, but Katara's head snapped up, her face alight with hope and joy. Iroh got up and prepared a larger bowl of water, placing it meaningfully next to Katara. She eagerly pulled up a stream of the clear fluid and set to work on Kento, trying to pinpoint the source of his affliction.

"Do not do too much at once," he cautioned, "this cannot be too abrupt, and we still have to discern the cause of this illness, to stop it at its source. Otherwise, our efforts will be for nothing."

She paused and nodded in understanding, then sedately resumed her task.

"As for the rest of us," continued the general, getting to his feet, "let's see what we can find out about how this sickness started."

* * *

The first thing Zuko did upon leaving the warehouse was to find a notice board, and he was relieved to see that his latest poster was not there…yet. But he knew that could change at any time, leaving him only a short while to conduct his search. 

Looking around at the population, he was also pleased to note a distinct lack of military presence. Apparently, Kawa'Gin was not significant enough to warrant much attention from the army, and this was definitely to his advantage.

So it was with lifted spirits that he made his way to the tiny market to find some breakfast. But as he observed the lackluster expressions of the citizens and the state of disrepair that characterized the town, a sense of melancholy began to settle over him.

What looked to have once been a prosperous and thriving community was now falling into ruin, the inhabitants struggling to make ends meet and eak out a living. Remembering what the shopkeeper in Kazimizu had said about the now useless silver mines in the area, he couldn't help but wonder how many towns had lost their livelihoods as a result of the war.

His fists clenched at his sides, frustration building as he forced himself to ignore the pleading merchants, all but begging what they instantly recognized as a non-local to come buy their humble wares. But even though he had a tiny bit of money to spare, he couldn't allow himself to be burdened by useless things, and so he refrained from showing the slightest interest in their hawking, his earlier light mood diminishing rapidly.

That is, until a young girl ran up to him in the street, tugging at his cloak. Irritated at first, he glanced down into a pair of large, beseeching eyes and his expression softened.

"Care to buy some herbs, sir?" she implored.

Frowning, the undercover prince knelt down, so he was level with the waifish child, but kept his face hidden beneath the shadows of his cowl.

"Where is your family?" he demanded, but not unkindly.

"My daddy and big brother are in the army, of course," she answered soberly.

"And your mother?"

The girl pointed a finger toward a stall behind them, where a woman was attempting to sell a pitiful assortment of dried herbs and tea leaves. Zuko looked from the booth to the little girl, the hope in her eyes fading as she hung her head.

"Just a copper's worth," she entreated earnestly.

Zuko didn't need any herbs, and he most certainly didn't want any _tea_, but he just couldn't keep up his apathetic pretense when confronted with the girl's touching petition.

"I think I can afford that much," he offered.

The child's face lit up with a brilliant smile as she grabbed him by the hand, and he allowed himself to be pulled to the stall where the woman was busy wrapping bundles of herbs.

"I found a customer, Mommy!" she announced excitedly, dragging the prince up to the booth.

Turning at the sound of her daughter's voice, she gasped in alarm at the sight of the cloaked young man being tugged along by the diminutive girl.

"Oh, _Kiwa_," the woman admonished in dismay, "you shouldn't be pestering people!"

"But he said he wanted to buy something!"

The woman arched an eyebrow, glancing at Zuko for confirmation, to which he replied with a helpless shrug, an awkward half-smile the only thing visible beneath his hood.

Not completely convinced, the girl's mother leaned down and scolded her in a gentle whisper, "We'll discuss this later, young lady."

The girl bit her lip contritely, and then spared a quick but radiant grin at Zuko before ducking back behind the booth. With a heavy sigh, the woman turned her attention back to her customer.

"I must apologize for my daughter," she began, but Zuko quickly interrupted.

"It's no bother," he reassured.

"So what can I get you?" asked the woman with forced, businesslike cheer. "I have a reasonable selection of tea leaves…some very good ginseng."

"The ginseng will be fine."

While the woman measured out the tea into a small bag, Zuko glanced around at the rather empty marketplace.

"Is there anyplace I can get something to eat?" he asked.

"Most of the merchants have moved on to larger towns," she answered matter-of-factly, "so fresh produce and meat are hard to come by. But you can get a meal at the tavern. It's just up the street."

Nodding gratefully as she handed him his purchase, he pulled out his money pouch and asked, "How much?"

"Two coppers."

Seeing that there was only one copper in his purse, he pulled forth a silver piece instead. But when he handed it to her, her face fell.

"I…I don't have change for that," she stammered, offering back the coin in her open palm.

He merely closed her fingers around the money and replied, "Then keep it."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the woman to gape at the small fortune in her hand. And by the time she recovered enough to protest, he was already gone.

Just as Zuko was nearing the tavern, the little girl rushed up to him again, stopping in his path and staring speechlessly up at him. Wonder and admiration lit up her face, and her mouth opened and closed as she obviously struggled to find the words to express her gratitude.

At last, she closed her eyes and gave him a deep bow, as sincere and reverent as any ever given to royalty. His heart clenched in his chest with an emotion he couldn't name, and once again, he knelt down, this time tilting her head up by the chin to look him in the square in the face. She didn't even flinch at the sight of his scar.

"Life won't always be like this," he insisted gently. "It'll get better soon…you'll see."

The smile she gave him was full of trust and hope, and she nodded enthusiastically before running off again. As Zuko watched her hurry away down the street, Aang's words from weeks ago filtered back through his mind. _'__I may not be able to change the past, but I _can_ shape the future.'_

"And things _will_ change," Zuko vowed quietly to the girl's retreating back, "_I promise_."

* * *


	5. Ch 5 Instigation

Toph and Sokka walked along the empty streets of Shinchou, the older boy keeping a firm, guiding grip on the earth bender's arm. It had been a good enough idea to try talking to the townspeople to find out more about the mysterious plague, but the only problem was that there were no people anywhere around.

"I _can_ see out here, you know," Toph grumbled, but not bothering to try and pull her arm from his grasp.

"Yeah," Sokka conceded slowly, "but you _did_ get us into this town by playing helpless, so it's probably best if you keep up the charade."

"Who's around to notice?" she retorted hotly, "this place is a ghost town!"

"Just the same," replied the warrior somewhat patronizingly, "we shouldn't take any chances. There isn't anyone on the street, but there _are_ windows. Someone could still be watching."

Toph merely sighed as they walked along in silence.

"Besides," he said suddenly in a teasing tone, "How many chances to you get to cling to a good-looking guy like me?"

"Pft! As if I know what you _look_ like," the girl snapped.

But even as she said it, she tilted her head away from him in feigned irritation to hide the small wash of color rising to her cheeks. The truth was she _did _know what he looked like, the memory of Tanha's brief vision having been burned into her mind for all time.

The pressure of feet on the earth brought her quickly back to the moment, and she stopped to turn toward the sensation.

"What's going on over there?" she wondered aloud.

"People!" gasped Sokka excitedly; looking down the side street toward which Toph had pivoted. "Finally, someone we can talk to!"

Without another word, he headed off in the direction of the people milling around a small building, pulling Toph along with him. As they drew closer, they noticed an elderly man, a doctor by the looks of him, trying to shoo the gathered people away.

"There's no room here," he pleaded, "please, return to your homes."

"But my daughter needs medicine!" cried one woman tiredly, cradling a pale, sleeping child.

"And so does my father!" called a young man with ragged breaths.

All at once, others in the crowd took up similar demands, closing in on the man with desperate resolve.

"But this hospital wasn't built for so many!" he insisted. "If you'll go back to your houses, I'll bring the treatments to you-"

"You said that yesterday and never showed!" argued a man.

"I've been preparing remedies as fast I can," the doctor explained imploringly, "but I'm only one man!"

His pleas went unheeded by the sick and frustrated citizens, and they continued closing in on him until a new voice broke through the hubbub.

"Would you like another pair of hands?"

The words were out of Toph's mouth before she knew what she was saying, and everyone turned to look at her in surprise. Even Sokka seemed startled by her sudden outburst, blinking down in astonishment at the girl still clutching his arm.

"Who are you?" asked the old physician.

"I'm someone offering to help," she replied tartly. "Do you want it or not?"

"But," stammered the man uncomfortably, staring at her milky eyes, "but you're…_blind_."

"As so is one of the greatest physicians in the Fire Nation," Toph snorted, "but that didn't stop him from teaching me how to mix and grind herbs."

"And who was that?" demanded the man warily.

"You mean you've never heard of Master Ru?" Sokka asked, jumping in to the conversation, his sharp mind latching on to Toph's plan and running with it.

"You trained with Master Ru? The Royal physician?!" gaped the old doctor incredulously. "But how...when?"

"He's retired and living in Bìmíng," explained Sokka smoothly, "That's where we're from."

The physician looked from the unusual pair to the restless crowd, weighing his options and finding that this was his best one.

"Very well, then, come inside and," he began, but a voice from the crowd cut him off.

"What about _us_?"

Facing the disgruntled townsperson, a new wave of helplessness washed over the old man as he realized only part of his problem was solved. But, fortunately for him, Sokka wasn't done with his bright ideas.

"Why don't I take them all to the inn?" the boy suggested sensibly. "That place has plenty of empty beds. Not to mention everyone would be in one location so you won't have to visit them door to door in their homes when you're done with the medicine."

"Why that's," the man stammered, "that's brilliant! My dear boy, you're a genius!"

"Yeah," shrugged the warrior smugly, "I hear that lot."

"Let me get the treatments I have prepared so far, and you can take them with you," said the doctor, and he hurried back into the small hospital.

While he was gone, Sokka took the opportunity to pull Toph away from the gathered crowd to speak to her privately.

"Good job, Toph. I'll find out what I can from all these people and while you're with the doctor, try and get some information out of him about how and when this disease started," he instructed.

"Gee, Sokka," she drawled sarcastically, "I _never_ would have thought to do _that_."

"Just…go do your snooping!" he blustered in a harsh whisper.

She started to walk away from him, but he quickly grabbed her arm again, pulling her close as he started leading her to the porch of the hospital.

"And don't forget to play 'blind'!" he hissed in her ear.

She only muttered something incoherent under her breath, fighting the blush threatening to stain her cheeks for the second time that morning, and angrily reminding herself that Suki was his girlfriend.

* * *

The tavern in Kawa'Gin was one of the few well-kept buildings in the town, but even then, it was a rather dismal place, Zuko noticed. There were hardly any customers in the dimly lit room, and the prince wasn't so sure that such inactivity could be attributed to the time of day. 

Certainly, the comely teenage girl waiting tables had been almost too excited to see a patron walk in the door, and she lavished more attention on him that he would have preferred. About the only good thing to come of her exuberance was the fact that she brought his meal quickly. Unfortunately, she also tended to hover nearby, making it very difficult for Zuko to sneak food to the lemur hidden in his bag.

So when a group of four men sauntered loudly into the room, the prince was relieved that the serving girl finally had a reason to leave him alone. As she walked over to take care of the new customers, Zuko unlatched the bag at his hip and Momo's head poked up to eye the plate of food on the table.

"Sorry, Momo," he whispered, handing the lemur a piece of fruit, "she wouldn't go away."

Zuko couldn't tell if the ensuing trill was a reprimand or a pardon, but since Momo eagerly accepted the food offering, he assumed it was the latter. The prince hid a smile beneath the shadows of his hood, as he fondly watched his small furry companion begin devouring his breakfast.

"Can I get you anything else?" asked the girl from behind.

In an instant, Zuko had shoved the lemur back down into the bag, just as the waitress walked around to his side.

"I'm fine, thanks," he replied quickly, receding into his cowl and trying to look and sound as innocent and unflustered as possible.

"Well if you need anything just ask," she offered, and turned to walk away.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Zuko started to reopen the satchel for Momo when the girl spun around to face him once more, forcing the prince to hide his borrowed pet again, and only barely succeeding in doing so. Zuko ignored Momo's muffled chirrup of irritation as the prince hastily resumed a nonchalant posture.

"You know, it's not going to rain inside," she remarked timidly. "You should let your hood down and make yourself comfortable."

"Is that a requirement for enjoying a meal here?" he asked tersely.

While he didn't blame the girl for being curious, maybe even a little suspicious, he simply couldn't afford to show his face or allow Momo to be spotted. And he still had to find out whether or not his mother had been through here. Being exposed could prevent him from his quest.

"No, of course not," the girl answered contritely, and once again she began walking away.

But she got no more than two steps away, and Zuko had just lifted the flap of the satchel to let Momo take another piece of fruit, when she pivoted back around. For the third time, Zuko frantically shoved the lemur back into the bag.

"Are you sure there's nothing else I can get you?"

Zuko was just about to snap out a nasty reply, and then thought better of it. Maybe she could be of some use despite her annoying insistence.

"Actually," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice pleasant, "do you know where I might be able to purchase some silver wire?"

"Silver wire?"

"Yes, like the kind used in making jewelry."

"Oh!" she exclaimed with interest, "are you a jeweler?"

"No," he snapped, losing his patience with the girl's persistent inquisitiveness, "I just want to buy some wire. Do you know where I can find any or not?"

Apparently oblivious to his irascible tone, she shrugged amiably. "You can try old Junjie, he lives just outside town, up in the hills. He's the only one around here stubborn enough to keep delving into those useless mines."

She seemed about to say something else, when one of the men from the rowdy group who'd entered earlier called out.

"Hey! You gonna stand around gabbing all day, woman, or are you going to bring us our food?" shouted a stout, muscular man who looked to have been in a more than a few nasty fights.

"Oh, keep your shirt on, Zan," the girl hollered back, her face flushing with resentment. "I'm coming."

She then excused herself from Zuko, and he could hear her muttering as she walked away, "I swear, if those thugs weren't steady money I'd…"

Left in peace at last, Zuko lifted the flap of the satchel to find a very unhappy lemur glaring up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," the fire prince admonished in grumbling whisper, "I was trying!"

As a peace offering, Zuko pulled his traveling cloak closed about him, allowing Momo to come out of the bag and sit on his leg, the folds of the fabric keeping the little creature hidden from view while Zuko discretely handed him morsels of food from the plate.

He had just pulled another small fruit under the cloak when the sound of heavy boots fell in behind him. The prince didn't turn around, but merely took a bite of food himself, ignoring the approaching man.

"So, you think just 'cause you're new in town you deserve more service than the rest of us?" When Zuko didn't answer, the man clamped a heavy hand menacingly onto the cloaked prince's shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Zuko glanced sidelong at the burly, hairy hand gripping his shoulder and growled dangerously, "Get your hand off me."

By now, the others in Zan's party had left their table, and the serving girl came out from the kitchen carrying a large platter just in time to see them converging on the hooded man she'd been talking to. Noticing the signs of trouble brewing, she hurriedly set down the tray on a nearby counter and rushed out the front door.

"Or you'll _what_?" the brute taunted, tightening his grip.

Faster than the eye could follow, Zuko whirled out of his chair, sending Momo scampering under the table as the prince flung the odious man to the ground in a single fluid move.

Zan was back on his feet in an instant, seething with rage and indignation as his cohorts gaped in shock at this hooded stranger who had the gall to defy their leader.

"Why you…" the man snarled, and without finishing his comment, he swung a huge fist right at Zuko's head.

Taking a lesson from Aang, Zuko dropped into a low spin, allowing the punch to sail harmlessly over his head and striking one of the other henchmen instead. The teen's leg shot out as he turned, sweeping a second man clean off his feet and onto a nearby table, smashing it to pieces.

The punched man staggered back, his nose bloodied by his own comrade, while the fourth man rushed at the prince with a furious yell. Zuko intercepted the attack by crouching down and sliding his foot into the path of the charge, tripping the man, and sending him flying forward over Zuko's back to land on top of the man who'd crashed into the table a moment before.

Now only the leader was left, whose face was ruddy with unbridled rage, and he attempted to land another hit on the lithe stranger he faced. But Zuko was faster by far, and he ducked under the swing, coming around behind the man and putting his back up against Zan's.

The prince deftly moved with him, and Zuko grinned to himself as he remembered how much this method of evasion had baffled and infuriated him during his first encounter with Aang.

When a thunder of boots thudded into the tavern, the pair was still engaged in their bizarre and backward dance, Zuko spinning and turning behind his opponent until the man finally lost his footing and fell heavily to the ground.

The town guards who had entered took stock of the scene, seeing the cloaked teen standing triumphant over four grown men who where just now getting back to their feet. Immediately assuming that the victor of the fight was also the instigator, they quickly surrounded him, weapons drawn.

"Looks like we have a troublemaker," drawled the guard captain, an oily man with a most distasteful demeanor.

Zuko held his hands apart non-threateningly as he replied defensively, "I didn't start this."

"I won't stand for brawling in my town," the man declared, ignoring Zuko's claim of innocence.

With a snap of the captain's fingers, one of the other guards stepped up behind the prince, jabbing a pair of batons first into Zuko's neck, then his ribcage, swiftly stealing the strength from the teen's arms and legs and sending him crumpling to the floor, his blocked chi leaving him effectively paralyzed.

"A night in a jail cell should teach you some respect," sneered the captain. Then to his charges, he ordered, "Take him away."

High in the rafters where no one could see him, Momo looked down upon his incapacitated companion and let out a mournful croon as the boy was dragged out of the tavern.

* * *


	6. Ch 6 Discoveries

Zuko hadn't been in tiny cell where the town guards had unceremoniously deposited him for very long before he heard a commotion in the front room of the small jailhouse. Experimentally, he tried moving his paralyzed limbs, and was disappointed to discover he still had no use of them.

So instead, he strained to catch as much of the conversation as possible and his eyes widened slightly in surprise when he recognized the voice of the waitress from the tavern.

* * *

"So are you going to set him free now or not?" the girl huffed after finishing her story. 

The waitress had returned to the tavern just moments after the guards had dragged away the very person she'd been trying to save from Zan and his buddies. And when she walked in to find the thugs standing around nursing their bruised egos, their only comfort the fact that their assailant had been arrested, she had shooed them out of the place and stormed over to the jail.

"Sorry Li'Zhi, that's Yunzu's call," the guard at the desk explained gruffly to the furious waitress. "But I don't expect he'll change his mind; that stranger dropped four grown men and wasn't even winded afterward."

"Yeah," the girl sighed disappointedly, "And I _missed_ it!" Then resuming her angry posture, arms akimbo on her hips, she quipped, "And believe me, if I'd have know he could do_ that_, I wouldn't have come to get _you_ idiots!"

"Be careful how you address a member of the city guard, Li'Zhi," intoned a smooth voice from the entryway behind the girl, "Unless you'd like to join your mysterious friend in that cell."

She stiffened at the sound of the captain's voice, but held her head high as she turned to face him.

"My apologies, Yunzu," she replied carefully, knowing better than to cross the man. "It's just that I have enough trouble getting customers, what with Zan and his bunch of bullies running people off all the time, and if word gets out that an innocent patron got thrown in jail for defending himself in my tavern, well it certainly won't help business!"

"Innocent?" scoffed Yunzu. "Any man who can fight like that is hardly _innocent_."

"Well he didn't start it, so you have no reason to hold him here," she sulked. "Besides, he still owes for his meal," she finished lamely, realizing she was never going to win this argument.

Yunzu chuckled, a thoroughly repulsive sound, full of mockery and self-assurance.

"Well, in that case," he drawled nastily, "I'll release him immediately. After all, I can't have you go without your proper payment."

Li'Zhi crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly, but held her tongue, knowing it could easily get her into more trouble than the stranger, no matter how innocent, was worth.

"Now run along back to your tavern, Li'Zhi," Yunzu ordered dismissively, walking over to pick up the small pile of mail on his desk. "I'm sure your noble patron will be all too willing to come pay his bill tomorrow when he's released."

Fists clenched at her sides, but accepting the fact that she wasn't going to get anywhere with Yunzu, she left the jailhouse in defeat. As her footsteps faded away, the captain opened one of the mail scrolls, and very nearly dropped it. His eyes went wide for a moment and then narrowed as a cruel smile spread across his lips.

Rolling up the missive, he purred wickedly under his breath, "Or perhaps I'll pay the stranger's bill myself."

* * *

The inn's kitchen was small and cozy, which in itself made it a nice spot for the Katara, Iroh, Aang, and Sokka to talk. But more than that it had a latch on the door, giving them a measure of privacy where they could not be overheard by the dozens of villagers in the main room beyond, some of which were slumped over tables and chairs, their illness having rendered them unconscious. 

"So can you cure them?" Sokka asked his sister.

"No, I can't," she replied simply, ignoring the dejected and drooping shoulders of her companions as she continued, "Because there's nothing to cure."

The others straightened at this revelation and stared at the water bender in confusion.

"They aren't suffering from disease," she explained glumly, "their lungs are damaged; probably from breathing all this thick soot for so long."

"So you can't help them?" inquired Aang forlornly.

"Of course I can!" she snapped.

"Then why don't you," wondered Sokka in bafflement.

"Gee, Sokka, why _can't_ I?" she fumed in response, "Oh wait, maybe it's because that would require me to _water bend_ and completely blow our _cover_!"

She didn't mean to be so harsh with her brother, but the situation was frustrating and infuriating. Healing these people would be no trouble at all, were it not for the circumstances preventing it.

"Can't you make it…look…natural?" the warrior offered helplessly.

This earned him a cold glare in response, and not just from his sister. Aang and Iroh looked similarly displeased, though not so much at Sokka's comment as the state of affairs in general.

"Sure, Sokka," she retorted, "let's just conk them all over the head and I can heal them while their out cold."

Sokka looked properly abashed at the suggestion, but Iroh stoked his beard thoughtfully.

"Perhaps that's not such a bad idea," he mused. Seeing the three astonished faces around him, he went on. "If they were all put to sleep for a while, that would allow you to heal them and they would never be the wiser. They'd simply wake up and be 'cured'."

"I suppose that could work," the girl conceded, "but how are we going to get them all to sleep? I'd rather not wait until nightfall; some of those people out there are already unconscious. They may not last much longer."

"The medicine!" Sokka cried in epiphany. "Toph is helping the physician mix it up; we could have her slip in a sleeping agent."

"Poppy root," Iroh interjected sagely, "I've taught her to recognize that particular herb. Mixed with jasmine it makes a nice sleeping tea, and it's a staple in all apothecary cabinets."

"Do I _want_ to know why you would ever need to make a sleeping tea?" wondered Sokka suspiciously.

"Oh, well," Iroh admitted bashfully, "I may have given some to Zuko once or twice shortly after he was banished. It tastes awful, and didn't do much for his seasickness, but he slept better."

"Why you sneaky old man," gaped Sokka, mildly impressed, to which Iroh merely shrugged innocently.

"I'll go tell Toph the plan," offered Aang, bringing them all back to the moment. "In the meantime, you guys should probably take anyone who's already passed out to one of the rooms, so Katara can get started on them at least."

They all nodded their agreement and quickly set about their tasks.

* * *

Toph was starting to regret her offer to help, as the old doctor tended to hover around her like a raven-hawk. And getting him to talk about the plague was like pulling teeth from a hippo-cow. He may have accepted her blindness enough to let her grind herbs, but he apparently wasn't about to share any expertise the way Ru had. 

So she took every opportunity that he was more then three feet away to pulverize the herbs with a little bending through the stone mortar and pestle, abruptly stopping every time he came back to peek over her shoulder.

"Don't worry if you can't get that into a fine powder," he said patronizingly, "I can finish grind-"

She stopped him short by curtly sliding the bowl in front of him, and he blinked in astonishment at the perfect powder, pulling it up and letting it sift through his fingertips in amazement.

"Powder is my specialty," she grumbled.

"How long did you train with Master Ru?" he marveled.

"Long enough to know that huang-qi works better if you add in some poria," she snorted, remembering the mixture Ru had used in the tea he gave to keep Iroh's illness from spreading to the rest of the group; nasty tasting stuff, but effective.

"Poria…" he mused, obviously not having considered this himself. Then he sighed. "Perhaps, but I doubt it will do much good considering what we're up against."

"Don't you think it's at least worth a _try_?" she huffed. "You sound like you've already given up!"

"A good doctor never gives up!" he snapped back peevishly. "You just stay here young lady, and don't touch anything until I get back!"

He began to stomp out the door, only to narrowly miss colliding with Aang, startling a yell out of both of them.

"Who are you?" the old man demanded once he'd recovered.

"He's with me," piped up Toph quickly.

"Oh…well," he stammered, glancing back and forth between them before addressing Aang. "In that case, you can keep an eye on her while I get some poria. See that she doesn't knock anything over."

Aang could see the way Toph's teeth gritted irritably, but the air bender only smiled pleasantly.

"No problem!"

Once the old doctor left, Toph turned to her friend with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I hope you aren't here to find out what I've learned, 'cause I've got nothin'," she griped. "That old codger won't tell me anything!"

"That's okay," Aang reassured her. "Katara already figured out what's wrong with everyone and we have a plan for helping them."

"Good, then I can finally get out of this place!" she declared, and immediately started toward the door.

"Not yet!" Aang said, stepping in front of her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "We need you to put some poppy root in the medicine so everyone will sleep while Katara heals them. Iroh says there should be some here."

"There is actually," Toph replied, heading over to the apothecary chest, "I stumbled across it earlier. But you're going to have to keep Dr. Fussy-Pants occupied when he gets back. He doesn't trust me to do this stuff by myself because I'm _blind_," she finished contemptuously.

"I'll do what I can," he agreed.

* * *

Keeping the doctor away from Toph had turned out to be much easier than they expected, as the patients in the hospital began calling for food and water. And when Aang offered to help carry the serving trays for the aging physician, he gladly accepted. 

As they made their way around the infirmary filled with occupied beds, Aang took note of the fact that many were unconscious.

"So do you have any idea what's wrong with everyone?" the boy inquired innocently.

"I know precisely what's wrong," the man grumbled, "and it's nothing I have the power to cure."

"Really?" remarked Aang in surprise. "Then why are you working on all this medicine if you can't cure them?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" he retorted. "It's my duty to help them, or, at the very least make them comfortable until…"

His voice trailed off, leaving the grim statement unfinished while Aang merely hung his head sadly, allowing the man to continue.

"I've been a doctor for over fifty years," he explained bitterly, "and in that time I've seen every form of illness known to man. I can assure you, this is no natural ailment."

"So…what is it?" the boy probed, wondering if the physician had come to the same conclusion as Katara. "Do you think the factory is making them sick?"

"The factory?" the man turned to regard Aang, blinking with indignant confusion. "That thing has been here for decades with no ill effects. Of course, it isn't the factory! What a preposterous idea!"

"Oh…"

"No, this is no plague," ranted the doctor, resuming his task of handing food to those patients who were still awake. "It's a _curse_, a vile and cowardly attack from the most dangerous being to ever cross from the spirit world."

"You think a spirit has cursed this place?" Aang's brow furrowed unhappily, not liking the idea that anyone could be superstitious enough to blame a disease on an angry spirit.

"Yes, but not just any spirit," intoned the man ominously. "Only one has such immense power, one who is the greatest threat our nation has ever seen, the one who seeks to destroy us all…"

Aang suddenly felt an inexplicable tightening in his stomach, and his eyes went wide in horror as the man finished.

"…we've been cursed by the Avatar."

_Commercial Break_

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm sorry this took so long, but I'm starting to get seriously weirded out. Each new episode of Avatar reveals just one more thing I had planned on using in the second arc of my fan-fic (episodes 11-20), things I really thought would be way too far-fetched when I plotted them out months and months ago, but apparently weren't as outlandish as I believed. Obviously, the canon approaches them differently, but the basic concepts are still there. 

This whole factory thing vs. 'The Painted Lady', my next chapter vs. 'Sokka's Master', and now the correlation between one of Zuko's relatives to Aang's past. And on top of all that, I've heard rumors about 'The Puppetmaster' utilizing yet _another_ concept I had developed based on something I read on the Avatar webpage a long time ago (which has since been removed). UGH!

I am _so_ losing interest in writing this story, because so many of my ideas are becoming canon, and I _love_ the way the show is doing them. Now, this is not me feeling inferior about my work, it's just that I'm _really_ enjoying the new season. My ideas are becoming reality in the most awesome way, and I no longer feel the need to keep writing in order to placate my Avatar obsession. I'm completely satisfied with what the show's creators are doing.

Writing was so much easier during the 'dry spell'. I could let my ideas run rampant and enjoy them in lieu of the real thing because there simply wasn't anything else to be had. But now that I have the new episodes, all I want to do is focus on what's happening in _those_.

I realize that some of you like my mock-season better, and while I'm flattered by this, I am also somewhat disheartened. I wouldn't change anything about the actual third season, and I hate to think that my story has somehow taken away other people's enjoyment of it. That was never my intention.

This whole project was only meant to hold folks over until the real thing started back up. And while yes, I DO have a whole season plotted out, I just don't have the same level of enthusiasm that I did when I started.

I will finish this 'episode', I promise. But as for the rest…I just don't know anymore. Most of what I have planned is so similar to what's coming out that I almost don't see the point in continuing. Especially since the real thing is more interesting to me by far. Maybe I just need a break.


	7. Ch 7 Reviled

**Author's note:** I am SO sorry it took so long to get this up. Despite all my notes and outlines, for some reason this chapter just wasn't playing out clearly in my mind. I couldn't get the dialogue to flow. But I didn't want to throw words down on the page just for the sake of having something there, so I waited until things crystallized a bit.

I can only hope the results were worth the wait.

_And now, back to the 'show'._

* * *

When Aang returned to the inn, his shoulders were slumped dejectedly and he walked with his feet practically dragging the ground. He didn't say a word as he passed Katara and Sokka on his way to the kitchen, and the siblings looked at each other with open concern. 

Across the room, Iroh had also noticed the Avatar's despondency, and he gave the two water tribe teens a reassuring glance, indicating they should go to their friend; he'd take care of the needs of the villagers for a while.

Sokka closed and bolted the door behind them, and no one said anything for several long moments.

"Aang?" ventured Katara hesitantly, "is everything okay?"

"Fine," he answered glumly, his tone clearly contradicting his response.

Sokka and Katara exchanged another worried glance, as Aang continued.

"You should get going, Katara," he said listlessly, "I told Dr. Shan you'd stay and watch the hospital so he can bring the medicine here. You can heal the people there while he's gone."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's troubling you," she responded gently, sitting down at the table next to him.

Aang spared a glance at her and could tell by the look of compassionate determination on her face that she wasn't going to let him keep this to himself. So he heaved a heavy sigh and told her the problem.

"Dr. Shan is blaming me for this illness."

"What!?" Sokka shouted incredulously. "How can he think this is _your_ fault? You just got into town yesterday!"

"No, not _me_" Aang said impatiently, "well not, who he _thinks_ is me…"

He shook his head in frustration, trying to explain, "He thinks this disease is a curse, and that the _Avatar_ is the one who cursed everyone."

"Well that's just ridiculous," huffed the warrior, "even if you _had_ that kind of power, which…um…you _don't_…do you?" A glare from Aang deterred any further doubt and Sokka continued quickly, "Right…anyway, there's nothing to get worked up over. It's just one man's crazy theory."

"Actually, it's not," interjected Katara quietly, causing both boys to stare at her in astonishment. "Kento made the same remark earlier," she confessed, "and I've heard some of the other villagers mention it too." Glancing guiltily at Aang she added, "I wasn't going to say anything about it because I knew it would upset you."

The Avatar groaned and let his head drop to the tabletop. "How could they think that?"

"The people of Chin thought you were a murderer," Sokka pointed out.

Another groan erupted from the young air bender, and this time he threw his arms over his head.

"Not helping, Sokka," chided his sister irritably in an undertone.

"But that was different," protested Aang glumly, his buried head muffling the sound of his voice. "I had a chance to prove myself then. That isn't an option here."

"You can prove yourself by defeating the Fire Lord," shrugged the warrior.

"How is that going to help?!" interrupted Aang, snapping his head up. "If anything, defeating their leader will only make it worse! How will that bring peace and balance?!"

"First things first, Aang," declared Sokka pragmatically. "Just concentrate on taking down the Fire Lord and worry about all that peace and balance stuff later."

When Aang's head once again thudded to the tabletop, Katara got up and knelt beside him, placing her arms consolingly across his shoulders.

"I think what Sokka is trying to say is, you can't worry too much about all of this now. You just have to tackle each situation as it comes up. No one expects you to fix the world's problems in a single afternoon. Besides," she added with a gentle reassuring squeeze, "we'll be with you every step of the way. You won't have to do this alone."

Aang lifted his head to see Katara's encouraging smile, and he returned it with a wan smile of his own.

"That's right," chimed in Sokka, "And once these people are feeling better, they'll forget all about this 'curse' nonsense."

Cheered by this logic, Aang straightened in his chair and looked at each of his friends in turn.

"You're right," he stated resolutely, "I just have to take things one step at a time. Thanks guys."

They smiled and hugged him, and then got up to leave the room, neither noticing that Aang hung back slightly. He waited for them to leave before speaking quietly to the empty room, his face settling in to a somber mask of grim resolve.

"And showing these people I'm not a threat is the first step."

* * *

Zuko was just beginning to regain feeling in his limbs when the door to his cell creaked open and rough hands dragged him to his feet, pressing him against the wall to keep his still slightly numb body upright. Before he got a chance to adjust his cowl to see what was going on, iron shackles bound together by a short length of chain were clamped onto his wrists and ankles. As the sounds of footsteps echoed away, the hood of his cloak was yanked back, giving him a clear view of the oily guard captain who had arrested him earlier. 

The man stared intently at Zuko's face, then down to a sheet of paper in his hands, and Zuko tensed as he realized that any hope he had of being released had just been snuffed. His mind raced as he considered his options for getting out of this mess somehow. The shackles on his wrist were connected by a chain to those on his feet, so that his hands could rise no higher than his waist. This set up pretty much ruled out any bending, fighting, or running; unless of course he planned on running his mouth like an idiot, or…

Like _Sokka_. Now there was a thought. After all, how many times during the months Zuko had spent chasing Aang, had the water tribe boy managed to weasel out of the prince's grasp by no other virtue than his big mouth?

Granted, Zuko was nowhere near as adept or practiced at such a tactic as his friend, but it was all he had at the moment. So he steadied his breath and watched coolly as the man in front of him rolled up the parchment, smirking with cruel delight at his prisoner.

"Well," he drawled, "If I had known royalty would be visiting, I would have prepared better accommodations, _Prince Zuko._" Yunzu punctuated the name with an exaggerated bow. Straitening, he continued with sarcastic regret, "But since you arrived unannounced, I'm afraid this is the best I can do."

"Release me, and I might forgive the insult," Zuko retorted with a boldness he didn't quite feel.

"You're hardly in any position to be making demands, Highness," Yunzu sneered, his use of Zuko's title an obvious mockery of the prince's once rightful status. "The only reason your head isn't already being shipped to your father is because I am a generous and considerate man."

"By generous, you must mean that one reward alone isn't worth your while," scoffed the prince, "and the only consideration you have is the forethought not to kill your only source of information."

"You may be worth a lot of gold, boy," snapped Yunzu, his demeanor becoming hostile, "but the Avatar is worth a lordship and thus my way out of this miserable little town. Now tell me," his face contorting in suddenly impatient anger, "where is he?"

As Zuko regarded the man's twisted features, he was unexpectedly struck by the irony of his situation, and wondered vaguely if he had looked this ridiculous when _he_ was the one asking that same question. He couldn't help but laugh at the thought; letting his head roll back to rest on the wall as he let loose a chuckle that resembled something akin to a loss of sanity rather than actual humor.

Momentarily taken aback by Zuko's reaction, Yunzu growled, "What's so funny?"

"You!" answered the prince, his mirthless laughter lingering in his voice even as it became more serious. "You honestly think that, even if I told you where he is, you could take him down? I couldn't capture him. My sister couldn't _kill_ him. What makes you think _you_ would succeed where better people have failed?"

"You think you are better than me, boy?" snarled Yunzu, stepping forward until he was inches from Zuko's face.

"There's one way to find out," challenged the prince calmly, his gaze unwavering.

The two men stared coldly at each other, and for one hopeful heartbeat, Zuko thought Yunzu might actually take the bait. But then the man stepped back and smiled, a greasy and wholly despicable smirk, and the prince knew it was no good. Still, it had been worth a shot.

"Nice try," Yunzu purred wickedly.

Zuko continued to glare at the man as he walked out of the cell. The door clanged shut and the bolt slid into place. Yunzu paused only briefly as he left the room, calling back over his shoulder.

"I'll give you until nightfall to talk."

Once the man was gone, Zuko leaned against the wall, and then slid down it into a sitting position, the chains connecting his hands to his feet rattling and clinking dully to the stone floor. His head drooped forward to rest on his knees as he let out defeated sight.

He stayed like this for barely a moment before a familiar purr echoed into the cell, and his head snapped up to look expectantly toward the tiny barred window above him. But his expression fell when he saw it was nothing more than a coon-cat basking in the mid-day sunlight outside.

His head sunk back to his knees as he muttered cynically to himself, "As if I'd be rescued by a _lemur_."

* * *

Dr. Shan looked around the tiny hospital, dumb with shock. The patients who had been practically comatose when he'd left earlier were now milling about the room, anxious to return to their homes. He looked down at Toph, who was standing next to him, and eyed the girl doubtfully. 

"Are you sure you prepared the correct mixture?"

"I'm _pretty_ sure," she replied innocently, rubbing her chin. "I mean, I did run out of _something_ at one point, but I_ thought_ I found more of the same thing. It _felt_ the same…"

By now, the man's jaw was agape with horror, as he realized he had no idea what had been given to these people to cure them.

"Whatever it was," chimed in Aang, having overheard the conversation as he walked into the room, "it seems to have worked." Then turning to the doctor, he announced, "Everyone at the inn is feeling better too."

At this, the old physician grabbed Toph by the shoulders and practically dragged her to the apothecary table.

"You have to show me what you put in that medicine!" he demanded.

"Sure!" she agreed brightly, reaching for a small pile of green herbs, "it was this and…no wait…" she picked up another pile, similar in size and texture, but bright yellow, "maybe it was _this_ one…they look the same to me…"

Toph continued to pick up and discard bundles of herbs as the doctor smacked his palm against his forehead, dragging it down his face even as his shoulders slumped in dismal woe.

* * *

A few hours later, the streets of Shinchou were teeming with life as the wagon carrying the Avatar and his companions jostled toward the gates. With the threat of plague ended, they were now open wide for travelers, and the guards barely gave the cart a passing glance as they rode out of town. They hadn't gotten too far before dusk fell, and Iroh pulled into a clearing off the side of the road to set up camp. 

After a simple and relatively quite meal, everyone decided it was time to get some rest. But Aang lingered awake with the dying light of the sun, and after a while, he stepped into the road and looked back toward the town, frowning at the smokestacks still visible over the trees. Black clouds billowed from them and settled into the valley; trapped by the mountain mist that clung to the peaks.

Glancing back at the camp, he noticed that the others were already fast asleep, exhausted after running around in the smog all day. His gaze returned to the town and his brow furrowed in thought.

"One step at a time," he murmured resolutely.

His course of action decided, the Avatar launched himself into the treetops, bouncing from one to the next in the direction of Shinchou.

* * *

Zuko didn't even lift his head when the cell door opened again, but merely kept his eyes on the cold floor gleaming in the meager torchlight. Black boots crossed the small enclosure and stopped in front of the prince. Night had fallen; his time was up. 

"What is your answer?" asked Yunzu coolly as two other guards entered, coming to stand behind him.

At last, Zuko raised his head, fixing a hateful glare on the man, but saying nothing. He watched as Yunzu's lip curled into an irritated snarl.

"So be it."

And with that, Zuko was dragged to his feet and shoved from the cell.

**

* * *

Author's note:** One last thing… 

After receiving some rather rude comments on the previous chapter, I've come to the decision that, from now on, anonymous reviews written for the sole purpose of pissing me off will be _deleted._ Registered users who do the same will be blocked from leaving further comments.

I'm already frustrated enough with this series that I am close to calling it quits and I really don't need anyone tipping me over the edge because that really wouldn't be fair to the _**200+**_ people who are _enjoying_ these stories and who want me to continue.

So if you don't have anything nice to say, or are incapable of presenting a critique in a helpful and constructive manner, then keep your comments to yourself and go read something else.

* * *


	8. Ch 8 Identity

By the time Aang reached Shinchou, it was dark enough that he was able to breeze freely through the trees and across the rooftops, all the way up to the factory, without being seen. Of course, the thick blanket of smog helped as well. But that was also a problem, as it made breathing difficult. Trusting himself to the darkness, Aang untied his headband, and replaced it across his mouth and nose to filter out the heavy, filth-laden air.

Within no time, he had bounced his way up between the two towering smokestacks, and was standing on the lip of one, blinking back the soot as he peered down into its mouth. The rim of the chimney was crusted with grime, clinging to the insides so thickly that there was half as much area to let the smoke out as there probably could be. And this gave Aang an idea.

Experimentally, he attempted to bend the brittle substance, and was pleased to find that there was more than enough residual coal in the compacted dust to affect with his earth bending.

"No problem," he whispered to himself.

Pulling his hands together prayer-like, he closed his eyes, concentrating and focusing his chi for the task. Two even, steady breaths later, he began to bend. His movements were slow and graceful, his arms circling in wide sweeping motions across his body, reaching out over the sleepy town below and pulling the dark cloud of soot with each arc.

The blackened air responded to his call, shifting and swirling languidly at first and then building speed until it began to form a loose funnel around him. He swung his arms faster and faster, straining against the unfamiliar weight of the air until he had to use earth bending to augment his air bending. He smiled to himself as he acknowledged that this was something only an Avatar could do. This realization gave him a heady rush of empowerment…and it felt _good._

With each successive pull, the massive cloud swirled ever tighter, and Aang brought his hands closer together, circling them around each other as the soot rose up over his head where it hovered in a whirling black cyclone. Once he had wound the funnel into a sufficiently thin pillar, he took a deep breath.

Unleashing a powerful yell, he hurled the spinning black column straight down into the chimney, forcing it all the way down the length of the smokestack. With more soot still swirling above him, Aang lept over to the other chimney and forced the rest of the cloud down in the same fashion.

His arms trembled with exertion as he forced the soot and grime against the walls of the smokestacks and hardening it into solid plugs that extended the full interior length of the structures. There was a grinding and whooshing sound as the last wisp of smoke sputtered out of the chimneys, before they closed off with a crunch of finality.

Glancing up at the sky, he noticed that some of the smog still lingered, remaining trapped under the mist hanging over the valley. He drew in another deep breath and then, removing the headband from mouth, he blew with all his might, releasing a blast of air into the fog and dispelling it completely.

Aang stood on the smokestack, gazing at the stars twinkling overhead and smiled with pride.

"All in a days work for the Avatar," he grinned, retying his headband across his forehead.

But a shuddering beneath his feet brought him back to the moment. The clogged chimneys were backing up, unable to release the smoke any longer. Aang smiled down at his handiwork, and then quickly lept away.

* * *

Inside the factory, the sealed boilers were now filling with smoke, and it seeped from cracks in the furnaces. As pressure began to build, the bolts holding the seams together started creaking under the force of the residue, until at last, they initiated their own release. 

Pegs rocketed from their sockets, zinging and pinging around the room as thick black smoke rolled in cumulous clouds out into the factory, coating gears and pulleys, clogging in the vent pipes. It swept through the automated facility, burying everything in its wake with grime.

* * *

Zuko was led to a small, enclosed courtyard behind the jailhouse that had been hastily assembled into a makeshift execution area. A large wooden block sat in the middle, singularly lit by the pale moon. 

His bending had been taken from him with a few well-placed pinches from one of the guards, although they had graciously left him the use of his limbs and had even unlatched the ankle chains so he could walk. Not that it did him much good.

With one last useless tug at his bonds, he resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do, and he barely resisted as the guards shoved him toward the chopping block. But as he stood before it, his body refused to move any further, his mind racing. There _had_ to be something else. It simply couldn't end this way.

"Any last words?" sneered Yunzu.

Keeping his eyes fixed on his fate, Zuko said nothing. Yunzu nodded to one of the guards, the woman with the batons, and a sharp blow to the back of Zuko's legs brought the prince to his knees. The chains dangling from his handcuffs rattled as they hit the surface of the block in front of him and he bowed his head as though in prayer.

A lifetime of failures flashed across his mind's eye, and he concluded bitterly that it had all been for nothing. So many questions still unanswered, so many things left undone. And it came down to this. He was to be killed by his own countrymen at the behest of his own father, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His only consolation was that Aang and the others were still out there, and he hoped with all his might that they would succeed where he had not.

The ring of steel pulling loose from a scabbard echoed through the tiny courtyard, and Zuko closed his eyes. He drew his last breath and held it.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek rent the night air, followed by a panicked shout and the whoosh of metal falling. Zuko opened his eyes just in time to see a sharp length of steel bury itself in the block, mere inches from his nose…and neatly breaking the ring that held all his binding chains intact. He didn't even wait for the shackles to fall away completely before springing into action.

The baton wielding guard was the first one down, her feet swept out from under her before she could blink in surprise at the sudden unexpected turn events. But Zuko didn't bother to discern what commotion had saved him. Instead, he whipped one of the chains that had previously bound him around the second guard's wrist, flinging the hapless man across the courtyard to slam into the wall. It wasn't until he heard Yunzu's frantic yelling that Zuko finally figured out exactly what was going on.

"Get it off! Get it off!"

Zuko grinned. Now where had he heard _that_ shout before? And sure enough, turning away from the man he'd just incapacitated, there was Momo chattering wildly from atop Yunzu's head as he flailed desperately about, trying to pry the creature loose.

Striding calmly past the chop block, Zuko yanked the sword free of the stone and swung the tip around to Yunzu's throat. Momo took this as his cue to swoop off and the oily guard captain ceased his struggles, holding his hands away from his body in surrender and fearfully staring down the length of the blade into the stern, glittering gold eyes of Prince Zuko.

"On your knees," growled Zuko, and Yunzu immediately obeyed.

Keeping the edge of the sword pressed against the man's neck, Zuko circled around behind him, letting the steel slide along the now sweating flesh.

"I was only doing my job," Yunzu whimpered in a trembling voice, bowing his head contritely. "Please…forgive me, My Prince.

Zuko's lip curled in disgust for a moment before quickly reversing the sword and slamming the hilt down into the base of the man's skull, knocking him unconscious. As his limp body collapsed to the ground, the prince grated out a reply.

"You're forgiven."

Tossing the sword away, Zuko glanced around for his rescuer and spotted him just before he flew down to land on the fire bender's shoulder with a happy purr.

"Thanks, Momo," he murmured sincerely, leaning his forehead against the lemur's and rubbing him fondly between the ears, "I _really_ owe you one."

* * *

Within minutes, Zuko had recovered his swords and satchel and was racing down an alleyway with Momo flying alongside him. He hadn't gotten far when shouts and heavy footfalls rang out through the dark streets.

"Search down there!"

A pair of guards broke off from the others, heading toward the alley down which Zuko had just turned. He ducked into another sideway, clinging to the shadows. But much to his dismay, it was a dead end, and the wall was much higher than he could easily climb.

At the sound of a door creaking open behind him, Momo dove into the backpack, and Zuko spun around in alarm to face a brightly lit lantern. He dropped immediately into a fighting stance, but stood back up when he saw it was only a child…the little girl from the market, in fact.

She stood there, wide-eyed with shock, staring at him, and he back at her. It took him a moment to realize, however, that her attention was divided between him and the wall behind him. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he slowly looked over his shoulder to see his wanted poster hanging there.

The echo of booted feet drew nearer, and the girl suddenly dashed away toward the opening of the alley as the guards came into sight.

"I saw him! I saw the man with the scar!" she called.

Hidden in the shadows beyond her lantern, Zuko slowly began pulling his swords free, but he froze midway as he heard the girl continue.

"He went down that way!" she said pointing off toward another sideway, "down that alley across the street!"

It never even occurred to the guards to doubt her, and with shouts of 'this way' and 'let's go', they turned and headed in the direction she had indicated. Meanwhile, Zuko cautiously came up behind her, a mix of gratitude, wonder, and half a dozen other emotions he couldn't even name all pounding against his ribcage.

"You should be safe now, if you hurry," she whispered, glancing back over her shoulder up at him.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity the girl had given him, he started past her toward the street, looking around the corner to see that all was indeed clear. Turning back to where she still stood, Zuko pressed his hands together respectfully and bowed with serene reverence.

"Thank you, Kiwa."

And the next instant, he was gone, leaving the girl staring after him in amazement, blushing wildly at the realization that, not only had royalty_, the prince of the Fire Nation_, just _bowed_ to _her_, a _child_…he even remembered her _name_.

* * *

Aang had just landed on a rooftop in Shinchou when the first boom rolled through the valley, followed by a horrendous, ear-grating crunch as the factory ground to a halt. A few more clanging sputters ensued before a final, whooshing thump echoed across the town. 

A door below him banged open and two men came rushing out.

"What the-"

"The factory!"

As they hurried up the path to the factory, Aang heard them yelling irritably at each other.

"I told you this would happen! We should have cleaned out those smokestacks like I suggested!"

"Hey, th' foreman's the one that didn't wanna do it! So don't go puttin' this on _my_ head!"

Aang smiled to himself as he bounced his way across the rooftops. Here and there, he noticed people stepping outside their doors and looking out their windows to see what the commotion was. At first, they peered up at the factory, but one by one, their gazes shifted higher to another, far more astounding sight.

They were staring at the _stars_, clear in the sky for the first time in years.

Just as he was about to make another leap, Aang noticed a familiar figure come out to stand on the back porch of the building where he was perched. Only then, did Aang realize he was at the inn. He dropped down to land next Kento and, startled, the boy looked at Aang with surprise.

"I thought you left earlier today," he stammered in confusion.

"I did," answered Aang, lifting his eyes to twinkling stars overhead. "But I needed to come back and take care of something."

After a few moments of silence during which both boys gazed up at the sky, Aang commented casually.

"The stars look pretty amazing tonight."

"Yeah," whispered Kento, not taking his eyes from the spectacular sight, "I've never seen them this clearly before. It's as if this day has just been full of miracles. It almost makes me forget that it could all end soon. We may not have been cursed by the Avatar, but he's still out there...somewhere."

Unnoticed by the older teen, Aang sighed and closed his eyes.

"You know," he said quietly, "The Avatar isn't here to destroy the Fire Nation..."

At this, Kento finally pulled his gaze away from the sky to fix a curious stare upon the boy next to him, and he was surprised at the expression he found there: sadness, and an almost desperate pleading for understanding.

"...I'm trying to _save_ it."

In the time it took Kento to blink his eyes in shock, Aang was gone, a soft rustle of wind the only evidence he had been there at all. Kento was still staring at the empty space the Avatar had recently occupied when his mother came outside.

"Kento? Who were you talk-" she began to ask, but stopped with a gasp when she noticed the stars shining brightly in the night. "Oh my," she breathed. Then shaking her head in wonder she sighed and murmured, "Today has been like a gift from the spirits."

"Yeah," Kento agreed somberly, his brow furrowing for a second before he lifted his gaze once more to stare in awe at the stars.

"I think maybe it _was_."

_fin_

**

* * *

Author's note:**

I think some people may be misunderstanding my comments about losing interest in this project, so I want to try and clear a few things up. First of all, I am NOT feeling insecure about my writing. The positive reviews I've received from the majority of you have more than proven to me that I'm doing a good job, and I'm still enjoying what I write. _The problem is not a lack of self-esteem OR enjoyment so quit ragging me about it!_

I started writing these stories because I _missed the show_. I missed having new episodes to ogle and enjoy, so I wrote my own stuff to fill that void. But with the start of the third season_, I'm not missing Avatar anymore!_ The need to satisfy my Avatar craving is no longer there because I LOVE the new episodes. I'm so content with the canon that the drive to write my own thing has simply fallen to the wayside.

That's it. The whole thing. The _entire_ reason. It has nothing do with me feeling like my ideas are inferior, even if they may be by some standards (and that's merely an honest observation, not a self-depreciating complaint). It's also not a matter of me not wanting to write. In fact, it's the _exact opposite!_

I don't want to stop! I _really want_ to work on these stories. But every time I sit down to write, the only thing I can seem to get my brain focused on is the latest canon episode. Ultimately, I'm just enjoying the real thing too much to be motivated to write lately, and it's driving me nuts.

So I only felt it was fair to try and explain why updates were taking so long. You see, I won't put anything to paper until I get the urge to write. I refuse to force this stuff because I think it would show (and some people have already stated it has, which bothers me greatly).

And for the record, 'encouragement' in the form of telling me to quit writing if I'm not enjoying this does NOT help me. _It pisses me off._ And THAT sort of thing, more than anything else, is what has me frustrated enough to almost say 'screw it'.

It's maddening enough to know people are waiting for updates that I can't seem to deliver; I don't need the occasional individual to make it worse by telling me what a self-doubting basket-case I am, when all I was trying to do was explain why I'm writing more slowly than I have over the past ten months. I hate being misunderstood after trying to hard to be clear and forthright.

So for the last time, I AM going to continue this series and see it through to the end. I still have ideas I want to get out, and _I'm still having fun with this_. But while new episodes are airing, the updates are going to be slower. I can't help it if I am more excited about the canon than I am my own fan-fiction right now. Blame Mike and Brian for doing such a fantastic job on the third season…

**Now!** With all that mess (hopefully) cleared up, I would like to do something to show my appreciation for those of you who give me such wonderful and inspiring reviews. The greatest joy I get from doing this is hearing how much people enjoy what I write, and nothing gives me more pleasure than to see my story through the eyes of my readers.

So, from here on out, until the conclusion of this mock-series, whoever gives me the _best review_ throughout the course of the 'episode' will get to pick any scene from any of my stories, and I will illustrate it.

Important note: Best review does not necessarily mean one that gives me the most praise! It could be a very helpful critique, an entertaining reaction, mentioning a detail I didn't expect anyone to pick up on, or just something that gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. For that matter, it might not even be a single review, but rather a consistency of reviews from one person throughout the episode. Basically, it will be whatever excites, rejuvenates, or touches me the most when I read it.

There's just one catch: I _have _to be able to contact you privately (via member reply/PM or e-mail address) so I can find out what scene you want drawn. Anyone who does not have a means of getting in touch with them will unfortunately be excluded from this (no matter how awesome the review).

This endeavor goes into effect immediately (starting with this 'episode'), and the selected reviewer, along with the new artwork will be posted during the first 'commercial break' of the following 'episode'.

So everyone please speak up and let me know what you think of the story: be yourself and be honest. And I in turn will show my gratitude for your input by drawing for one of you (per episode) any scene you'd like.

* * *


End file.
